Love Lift Us Up Where We Belong
by Death's Angel 3000yrs
Summary: Tittle is also a song by Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes. This is a chubby love in the Opera. There will be singing. This is a oneshot. I am against Raoul.


Because of Raoul's position as Vicomte de Chaney and his growing romance with Christine, Y/n was often at the Opera House, despite not wanting to be there. As much as she loved being there, it was mockery to her on her brother's part. She would have loved to be up on stage, much like her brother's fiance, but due to her brother's belittlement, she stayed away.

"Why do I need to be here?" Y/n asked her brother before they exited the carriage.

"Because you make Christine look better. You being fat makes her look smaller and more beautiful. Her voice is also far better than yours. Come, let us go see her." Raoul spoke, not looking at his sister as he exited the carriage.

Y/n reluctantly followed, watching the two lovers embrace as soon as they were in the grand entrance. Meg greeted Y/n kindly before going back with Christine to their practice. The siblings watched the practice until the managers called Raoul away. Y/n, seeing that her brother was away, made her way to the Opera House chapel, a place where she found solace. It was a place where she could sing without bother. It was a place where she felt accepted in her body.

Y/n sat down on the sill of the grate, her back curling on the curve of the closed opening and began to sing.

_Who knows what tomorrow brings_

_In a world where few hearts survive_

_All I know is the way I feel_

_When it's real, I keep it alive_

_The road is long_

_There are mountains in our way_

_But we climb a step everyday_

A male voice joined in Y/n's singing, seemingly from no where, his voice soft as he let Y/n lead.

_Love lift us up where we belong_

_Where the eagles cry, on a mountain high_

_Love lift us up where we belong_

_Far from the world below, up where the clear wind blow_

Y/n stopped singing, realizing that there was another voice adding to hers. Eyes wide, she looked around as much as she could without leaving the room. She listened for breathing, but heard none. She began to sing again, hoping that she might find the origin of the voice while it sang.

_Some hang on to used to be_

_Live their lives looking behind_

Y/n paused, waiting for the voice to pick up the male's part, and within moments, the song continued, but not by her voice.

_All we have is here and now_

_All our life, out there to find_

_The road is long_

_There are mountains in our way_

_But we climb them a step a day_

_Love lift us up where we belong_

_Where the eagles cry, on a mountain high_

_Love lift us up where we belong_

_Far from the world below, up where the clear winds blow_

_Time goes by_

_No time to cry_

_Life's you and I _

_Alive today_

Y/n closed her eyes as she fell into the song and the other voice that had joined her.

_Love lift us up where we belong_

_Where the eagles cry, on a mountain high_

_Love lift us up where we belong_

_Far from the world below, up where the clear winds blow_

_Love lift us up where we belong_

_Where the eagles cry, on a mountain high_

_Love lift us up where we belong_

The room seemed quiet after the pair finished their song. Y/n opened her eyes slowly, still seeing no one, nor hearing any signs of a person. Y/n could only think of a single reason why there was a second voice.

"Are you the Opera Ghost?" Y/n asked to the air. She had heard the stories on her previous trips to the Opera House.

"Yes." The voice responded, distinctively male, and originating from no where.

"Y/n!" She heard her brother call her in the distance, a bit angrily.

Y/n tensed, readying herself to run to her brother before he lost his temper with her, but before she did, she called out to the ghost once again. "If I come again, will I be able to talk to you again, or sing with you?"

"Yes." The voice called again before Y/n dashed off.

* * *

Y/n continued to go back to the Opera House with her brother as often as she could. And each time that she did go, she would go to the chapel to speak with the ghost. Other times he would sing with him. And sometimes she would some instructions on her voice.

* * *

"Do you have a name other than Opera Ghost?" Y/n asked as she traced some of the murals with her fingertips.

"If I tell you, you must swear not to tell anyone." The Phantom spoke, still with no indication of origin.

"I doubt anyone would believe me if I did," Y/n's fingertips stopped on the painting of an angel she believed to be Gabriel. "But yes, I swear not to tell anyone."

"Erik. My name is Erik." The voice answered after some hesitation.

Y/n smiled. "That's a nice name."

"So is yours, Y/n." Erik said her name slowly. "Will you sing the song I first sang with you?"

Y/n smiled and turned to face the empty room. She leaned against the wall and began to sing. In his hiding place, the Phantom, Erik, closed his eyes, listening to the voice of Y/n.

Angry footsteps sounded from down the hall, neither Erik, nor the owner of the angelic voice noticing. Erik did not realize what happened until the song ended with the harsh sound of slapped skin. Opening his eyes, looking through the spy hole, seeing Y/n on the ground with Raoul towering over her, hand ready to strike Y/n's red cheek again.

Y/n stared in horror at her brother. He may have yelled at her before, belittled her, but ha had never raised a hand to her, until now.

"I thought I told you never to sing, you ugly cow!" He raised his hand to strike again, but he faltered in his movements at the loud voice that seemed to reverberate around the room.

"It is not her that is the cow, but you, Monsieur."

Raoul's head whipped around, looking for the man that could have spoken, but found none. He went to reach for his sister, intent on dragging her away to their home, but a black gloved hand met his wrist. His eyes raised to meet with the cold yellow ones in a half white porcelain mask.

"Leave, and never return to my Opera House, 'lest you want to be hanged from the rafters." The man spoke, his voice as hard as his eyes.

Raoul faltered in his steps, tripping at the entryway of the cathedral before sprinting to his carriage. He made his mind to write letters to Christine, not wanting to risk his life unnecessarily.

Erik turned back to the woman lying on the ground, a red mark on her soft cheek. His yellow eyes softened as he reached his hand out to her. "Are you alright?"

She grasped his hand tentatively, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "Yes, although I now have no way home."

"You will not be going home. I will not leave you in the hands of someone who would willingly harm something so beautiful. You may live with me."

"Erik, I presume," He nodded at her assessment before she continued speaking. "That doesn't seem proper."

"No more improper than how your brother treats you." Erik masked the anger in his voice, not wanting Y/n to think that his anger was directed at her.

Y/n sighed, knowing there was no other option, and she would not be harmed. "Alright."

Erik took her hand once again, leading her down to his home in the cellars of the Opera House, intent on giving his newfound love a good meal and a diamond ring.

* * *

**A/n: I don't like Raoul. And I totally root for the Phantom, given that he tries to not blow up the Opera House at a broken heart. Also, for those who don't mind a little John Watson bashing if its a good story, I recommend the Angel of the Opera by Sam Siciliano. Holmes acts like a loveable ass, and Erik gets his happy ending. **


End file.
